What do you Mean, NOT HUMAN?
by Fear Of Apathy
Summary: HPDM, slash. implied Founder!Slash. Post HBP. Harry discovers that he is the heir of the founders, and apparently, not human. Is horribly cliched, I know. Pulled back 1000 years, he prepares to train, to obtain his dream of world domination. refer to SI.
1. Obliviate!

Disclaimer: I really like to make Rowling fuck with the laws of time, don't I? Take the facts from that statement, and use it logically. What is it saying? That's right; this means that I don't own Harry Potter.

Background information from Slytherin Introductions, okay.

Warnings: SLASH! (AKA homosexual couples. Both MM and FF so either deal and get over with it, or hit the lovely green back button.) HBP! **gag **Lemon Drops. ...insanity?

Hits head. Can't think of title, so it'll probably change.

_**What do you mean, NOT HUMAN?**_

Such blind trust they both had, and it proved such a mistake, to both of them.

Dumbledore, the fool, trusted Snape, the traitor, more than anything, and look where it got him. Six feet under in a fancy crystal box.

Himself, the naïve Gryffindor he was supposed to be, trusted the old fool with his life; he would have died for him. And look where it got him. Back in this horrid hellhole he'd been stuck in since a year and a half, and nowhere to go. Back in this place, where all was dark, all was numb, and there was nothing. No one had even attempted to make contact with him for a month, something he would have been glad about after Sirius's death, but now – it was so much less. It seemed as if they didn't care! Preposterous! But he knew that it was the truth. All had been deception. Six years of it, and it had all been revealed in Sirius's will that had finally been revealed after fifth year. Yet, he pretended that he didn't know. It would be so suspicious.

That was when the trust had been broken.

The pensieve he had been given had the memories of his dear godfather, ones that had been originally erased completely from his own mind, regained as dreams, and deposited in the pensieve immediately.

Ron and Hermione – training with Moody, though they were failing completely, and him stepping in the room.

**Obliviate.**

Watching as Harry's vault keys were given away, and him and Moony in a boiling rage. Destroying political power.

**Obliviate.**

Him walking in on the meeting – a screen stuck up on the wall. Images of a boy in a cupboard, bruised and beaten, all playing. Smiles. "All for his own good…"

**Obliviate.**

Him hearing Dumbledore speaking to Snape, and Snape walking out with glazed eyes. The Imperious Curse.

**Obliviate.**

That was all it took for him to decide that he had been living a lie. There was nothing he could do for Snape. Yes, he had a powerful mind, but Dumbledore wasn't the strongest wizard of the time – a title Harry planned on claiming for his own after the inheritance - for nothing, was he?

After that, he had worn a constant mask, one that he had practiced and kept up since he was young. Even his friends didn't know him as well as he thought. No one did. He had told Sirius, he told the man, and even Moony, Remus, parts of his past, but no one knew everything. The strong glamours and charms he had up almost constantly made sure of that, yes, and he had long since perfected the art of Occlumency, though they all thought he was terrible at it. The knowledge had been gained, gleaned, really, from Voldemort's mind during the rebirth. Now, they were almost siblings, in that they regarded each other as such, and that they were physically brothers, by blood. Along with the blood bond, they had the mind bond.

Voldemort had been so sick of having visions of his pitiful past being showed to him, he gave him lessons. His mind was now an almost impenetrable fort. All of the things Snape, and in turn, Dumbledore, had seen – all been decoys. Tom had taught him enough to survive and win a duel with the lesser Death Eaters, and had promised to teach him more, teach him to be powerful, when he announced neutrality. He doubted he would ever be allowed to, but now, after the death of Dumbledore, he could.

He might not agree with Voldemort's deeds or morals, but he knew they were kindred souls. How he regretted destroying the diary now, but, really, he was still the naïve, foolish Golden Boy then, full of unwavering, almost sickening, _trust_.

They were not allies, no, they fought on different sides of the war, but they had a connection, and Harry relied on the support his surrogate … brother?...gave him.

Maybe, now that Dumbledore was gone, he could announce neutrality and live in peace. Finally. Move to a different country, maybe.

But, no, he knew that he would never get peace.

But maybe he could find happiness.

Harry figured that Snape had finally broken the Imperious curse the night he killed the old fool. Though he knew that the man was under an Unbreakable Vow too, in order to protect his godson, Draco, he was still glad he had done it. Really, the man didn't seem so bad, then.

And the rest of the Slytherins, really, he didn't hate them. They'd been his friends since second year. Real friends. Friends he met on his own, without meddling headmasters. Honestly, the only reason he was practically stalking his Slytherin best friend was because he had been hurt, and in pain, and he was so frustrated that he could do nothing to help. Phst, Weasley and Granger thought he wanted revenge, or something insane like that. Really, what petty creature did they think he was? Delusional Gryffindors.

(1)

The silence of the walls he was stuck in, held captive in, and yet the walls were so thin, so weak. And he hated himself for not being able to get out of this place. Welts and lashes on his back, and even a few broken ribs, newly delivered.

He gave a bitter chuckle that gave any invisible onlookers a vision of déjà vu. It was filled with cynicism and utter disdain for the world. Cold.

Empty.

This was all there was now.

A fact he was very much acute to.

His mind was near broken, and he could have sworn he felt a ghost-like touch lightly flutter across his temple.

Ten minutes gone by, and he felt it again.

Go away! Leave me alone! Please…

His silent pleas broke off to an equally silent sob.

That was how he laid for hours, before the clock struck midnight, and he blacked out. Then he was gone.

When he awoke finally, he was laying in a large bed with lush silk sheets. He had not yet opened his eyes. Normally, anyone would have been shocked at this knowledge, but Harry was not, nor did he care.

He sensed several non-threatening presences in the room he was in, and again, the knowledge left him curious of his newly acquired talent.

"Where am I?" The question must have surprised them. Their young charge had not even opened his eyes!

"Why, Hogwarts, of course!" The voice was cheerful and warm, if not immature.

"No… it feels different…"

"Huh. Might that have something to do with the fact that it's probably a large measure of time younger? Yes, I imagine it would."

"Wait! What do you mean… time?" He finally decided to open his eyes and glare at the speaker, but was surprised to see four faces at the end of his bed.

The one on the middle and to the left, a kindly looking woman with curly blond hair and warm golden eyes, smiled and spoke. "Maybe I should introduce myself then we'll get into the story. My name is Helga Hufflepuff, and these are my colleagues, Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin."

That was the last thing he heard before falling unconscious with a faint thud sound.

"D'you think he understood us?"

It was the face on the far right, who had his arm around Helga. He had vibrant red hair with dark blue eyes, and was named when Helga swatted the back of his head, and chided, "Godric!'

The one on the far left allowed an expression to slide on his face and smiled amusedly at his two fellow founders. His green eyes and black framed his happy face, though it could change into a vicious battle-hardened face within seconds. Meet Salazar Slytherin.

Rowena Ravenclaw was looking at the boy curiously with her light blue eyes. Her dark hair framed her face, and she absentmindedly tucked a lock behind her hair.

Salazar rolled his eyes at his distracted friends, and cast 'Enervate' on their charge, but frowned when he didn't do anything.

**_-POV change!-_**

Harry tensed slightly as he felt the spell wash over him. 'Enervate, right, that's what it was. Summon that wand; you know you can do it!' And so he did. Except for the smacking sound he heard in his palm. Much too strong for his likes.

"Why should I believe that you are the _thousand-year dead _founders of Hogwarts?"

-I really could be Voldemort… but I'm not.-

Harry jumped. It had been so long since he had talked with another Parselmouth.

-As if I'd care. The guy's practically my brother! So, if you're really Slytherin, what am I doing here?-

Salazar blinked. He wasn't expecting that, more of a blatant hate for his elder heir.

Godric nudged him in the side, as they had somehow shifted during the hissed conversation that irritated the others. Times like this, they really wished they had such a dark gift as Salazar. 'Course, Godric could have been just in a daze at the sound of the voice. Apparently, Parseltongue was one of his major turn-ons. Harry, somehow, picked up the stray thought and shuddered subconsciously. Huh. Another one of those weird things he was gaining.

"Oh. Oh, yeah, yeah. Well, I bet you're wondering why you're here?" Aloof words came out of Salazar Slytherin's mouth. Frankly, it made Harry want to hit him with something. Or throw a lemon drop at him. Come on, the man was acting in mannerisms much too similar to old Dumbles!

He was bemused when a bag of lemon drops appeared in his hand.

Shrugging, he opened the bag, took one out, and held it in front of his face, as if deciding whether to eat it, or to use it as arsenal. Figuring he could always eat the sugar filled goodnesses (though he much preferred chocolates…), he chose ammunition.

Imagine the shock of Salazar Slytherin when he got hit in the face by a sweet. In return, he glared at the boy in question, who merely took a hyper inducing sugary substance out of its wrapped, popped it into his mouth, and attempted to whistle around it. Needless to say, he came close to spitting the thing out. Shame, really.

Rowena took pit on them, and began explaining calmly.

"We placed an enchantment on our bloodlines, and should they all be combined into one person, said person would be brought here for special… training and such."

"Somehow, there's more to the explanation than you're _telling_ me." He wasn't angry. Not one bit. Nor was he being rude. Nuh uh.

"Oh, be patient! No one said that my explanation was finished, idiot boy!"

Harry opened his mouth to protest in indignation, but forgot about the large sweet he was still sucking on. In response to the stimuli (I learned something from Science! Does a little dance.) the lemon drop fell onto the sheets.

"Now the sheets are sticky… and my lemon drop is fuzzy!" he pouted like a five year old boy. Well, in essence, he could have been. But he was carefully ignoring that.

Helga rolled her eyes. Insanity came with power, didn't it? She waved her hand and the lemon drop unattached itself from the sheet and the sheet cleaned. Harry smiled gleefully.

Rowena coughed. This wasn't the point!

"Where was I before I was _interrupted_? Oh, yes, I was telling you why you are here. You are here so we can make sure you are worthy of this gift, this honor, this… power. Now, you might think you are a little insane now, but, no, this is just a little touch of what's to come if you aren't mentally strong enough to do this. Got it?" Seeing Harry's nod, she continued. "On a much brighter note, I'd like to congratulate you on making it to your inheritance. You are the heir of the founders. Good job."

Helga took up there, right after kissing Rowena to shut her up. Harry thought the woman was oddly reminiscent of Her-no! Nonononono! He wouldn't think of her again! Well. The woman reminded him of what he thought his mother was like when she would lecture the Marauders.

"Rowena and I are your ancestors on your father's side, and Godric and Salazar are from your mother's. But there's more."

Glaring at the others, Salazar prodded his wand and said a firm 'silencio' that shut the others up. Maybe now they could get this conversation over with. Merlin, this was taking forever!

"As Helga said, there's more. We think that, somehow, the blood on your mother's side got a little… mixed up." At Harry's blank look, his left eyebrow started twitching. "What I mean is… you're not exactly… _human_."

"WHAT!"

Author's Notes in regards to the chapter:

1 - Right, I know that a lot of this contradicts with stuff from HBP, but, I'm still studiously ignoring those parts. The plot was horrible. There are just a lot of places that could have been possible slash. Sighs. Why can't she see? Well, other than the fact that she'd probably get sued out of her ass if she published a book about Harry and Draco making a spectacle of the school with all the foolish prejudice.

Okay, this is a new fic that coincides with other fic of mine, Slytherin Introductions, though it isn't necessary to read that one. It's just a fun little change of scenes given to us in the books in favor of the Slytherins.

I know that a lot of these ideas aren't mine. Probably horribly clichéd. But I took a lot of my favorite ideas and combined them into one.

Review and tell me how horrible/wonderful/boring/funny/...insert own adjective... it is!

Cher-nessssnesssss


	2. And the Award goes to Narcissa Malfoy

Wow, I am so incredibly sorry that I left this untouched for like a month. I wasn't supposed to, and I didn't mean to, but I did, apparently.

Disclaimer: My computer keeps crashing, my printer is disconnected, I have so much shit to turn in this week. Now, Mrs. Rowling is a good 40-ish years old, and as such, doesn't have to worry about any of this stuff, mainly because she has plenty of money to fix her computers and printers. I would kill to own Harry Potter. If you sue, you will get absolutely nothing, because I repeat: It is not mine.** huffs mock angrily**

-+-

Dan – Damn it, I had to look up that word… But anyway, yeah, it's supposed to be a little random. That's what happens when you get a model student who all the teachers love. There's gotta be a flaw somewhere in there. In this case, an obsession with slash and twisting the laws of time to my eeeeevil will and deeds. Ah, they would be proud of me for writing so much, but I think they would take that pretty letter 'A' away after reading it…

_**Chapter Two: Bitch of the Month Award goes to Narcissa Malfoy**_

Draco sighed as he flopped down on his bed. His heart was aching, his head was spinning, and his stomach was lurching randomly and violently.

See, his mother decided it would be funny to tell him that he was part vela the year after his sixteenth birthday. A year after his inheritance began. His mother had officially won the bitch of the decade award.

Well, at least this explained why he was so sick last year. He still had yet to discover why Harry had been stalking him, but he had a hunch it was because he was avoiding him, like he was with all of his friends.

So far, all he could tell was that he would have to find his mate within a week, just before his birthday. Normally, veelas would have a full year to find them, but since he hadn't known before, he only had the week prior to his birthday. In other words, he blamed his mother for everything that happened in the last year. Maybe she'd been trying to kill him… His personal thoughts on the situation were this: Oh, fucking gods, I am so damn screwed.

Well, that was what he thought right before he disappeared.

**- Harry, the founders, and… drum roll… enter Draco! –**

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, NOT HUMAN? My god," – he ignored the chirped '-ric' added – "you people are absolutely insane! Bonkers! Deranged! Twisted! Possibly – no, seriously – disturbed! ..." and on it went for several minutes, and he ignored the fact that he, too, was all of the above.

The founders all winced at the volume of their heir's voice.

Then…

Thud.

Silence.

A groan.

An answering groan.

One hand poked out from the mass of limbs and tried to poke the other in the ribs, but, alas, he was hindered by the fact that the other was sitting on the arm attached to said hand.

Muffled though his voice was, they all heard Harry ask, clearly disgruntled, "Salazar, would you care to explain? You seem to be the only one who can keep a running explanation with getting distracted. Even though you remind me distinctly of old Dumbles…" His eyes narrowed calculatingly under the mass of gold-blonde hair. He could have sworn that it looked and felt familiar, but, well, his new senses just wouldn't tell him who the hell it was!

"Harry?" a startled voice asked.

That voice sounded familiar too, but the shock and impact of being landed upon were greatly affecting his thinking and deduction skills. At least what little was left of them, that is.

…**thirty seconds later… **

"Draco!"

They somehow managed to wriggle out of their slightly less than comfortable positions and into much easier spots in the middle of the bed with as little pain as possible, now sitting cross-legged next to each other.

Harry suddenly remembered the explanation that Salazar owed him. If there even _was_ an explanation, that is. He remembered that he still had the bag of lemon drops, earlier used as ammunition. Settled comfortably in his lap, he took one out and tapped it thoughtfully with a blue – new addition? Now that he was complaining mind you, they looked good… - fingernail.

Salazar caught the movement and narrowed his eyes. This didn't bode well for his sanity, not one bit. Nuh-uh.

He looked around nervously, attempting to find somewhere to – eh, hide, for lack of better word – but stopped abruptly upon remembering that he couldn't panic and lose his cool and do injustice to the Slytherin name.

Harry, on the other hand had a demanding expression on his face, but was laughing uproariously inside. He was surprised as Draco shot him an amused and/or annoyed look. "Will you stop cackling like a madman? I, for one, would really enjoy being informed of what – the – hell – is – going – on!" Whispered words turned into full on screams toward the end, and Draco saw the slightly scary man, who was shifting nervously, stop aforementioned action abruptly and look at him like he was the savior of the world. Shouldn't the man be looking to his right, where Harry sat, seemingly oblivious, munching on his – oh, good lord; the boy had lemon drops. Damn, that stuff was literally the tasty equivalent of insanity wrapped neatly in a bundle. On second glance, his Harry – his? Wow, becoming veela (he sneered the word distastefully even to himself) had made him strangely possessive – was looking at Salazar like the monster in the closet that had just conquered the smelly old Converse shoe. Bye-bye, lovely.

But Draco couldn't bring himself to care, as he usually would slap his mate on the back of the head and was, instead, basking in the warmth and sheer joy of sitting beside the boy who said "ah, screw it" to house rivalries. He was brought out of his content reverie by an amused coughing coming from somewhere in the general area of the end of the bed and thus glared when he saw a witch hiding a small smile behind her hand. His glare softened as he realized that she was not laughing at him, but at the odd man who had resumed his fidgeting, and another who was attempting to appease his nerves by patting him on the back and glaring Harry. Said boy was still cackling evilly in his mind and it was – really – getting on Draco's nerves!

Harry decided to humor him and introduce him to the founders. Purposely, the action served as a way to disperse the tense silence and glares – most of which were aimed at him.

"Draco, meet the founders. The scary one – or at least the one you thought to be scary – is Salazar Slytherin. Got all scared for – hey, what are you doing?"

During his short introduction, Draco had shuffled closer to his side and was currently latched onto Harry's left bicep firmly. Harry tried half-heartedly (in the belief that Draco was once again going through a mood swing, which he accounted for his foul temper often the year before) to shake Draco off. In truth, the warmth was comfortable; hell, the whole situation was comfortable for him. Family. If this is what it was like to have a family, be loved, love, and have people to look out for him instead of looking for protection from him, then he really enjoyed it.

Unconsciously, he rubbed Draco's arms. Draco had started to shiver sometime during his contemplation. A frown marring his forehead, he grabbed hold of the blankets that lay bunched up at the bottom of the bed and pulled them up so that they covered both him and Draco. Now lying on his back with Draco's head on his chest, he felt Draco's head. He hissed.

"Does anyone here know anything about healing? Check his temperature! Please?" he was pleading now, and he knew that. He didn't know where the sudden desperation for Draco to just be okay, and live for him came from, but shrugged it off. He couldn't let anything happen to Draco!

Ten minutes later and countless diagnostic checks proved that Draco's fever was close to 103 degrees. Rowena gasped as she saw the results flash in front of her. Helga rushed over to peer over her shoulder, and gasped along with Rowena.

"Kiss him, Harry. Kiss your prince."

Harry was endlessly confused by this cryptic statement – which really wasn't all that cryptic – but obliged.

He lowered his head to Draco's forehead and pressed his lips softly to the smooth, flushed skin, hoping fervently that _his_ Draco would be okay. He honestly didn't know why he referred to him as his Draco, but he always had, ever since about third year, when they had really gotten close. That had been a horrible summer.

"It's not enough, Harry," a soft voice whispered, snapping him out of his declining thoughts. "Do you love him?"

Harry pondered it over. He knew he loved Draco best out of all of his friends. Not to say that he didn't love them all tremendously but he and Draco had always been close. Thinking back on a time when Draco had been completely happy was difficult. He remembered last year, when he was following him around, stalking him, some would say, but he was worried for his blonde-haired beauty. Beauty? That was a new word for him, a new meaning, and a new memory to connect it to.

Smiling faintly down at the angel in his arms, he said proudly and surely, "Yes, I love Draco." _More than anything_, he silently whispered, hoping against hope that _his_ Draco would survive. He had to survive. Neither could live without the other, and he knew that from some innate sense of primal instinct. Those silver eyes cracked wearily and painfully to look at Harry's determined face.

Harry himself knew that his own eyes were perhaps shining with tears, but didn't break Draco's gaze.

With blue lips now and a dreadfully flushed face, Draco stared up at Harry still.

Cradled now delicately against his side, Harry lifted Draco's chin gently and descended a sweet kiss upon those lips, and, _god, just live, Draco_!

His color was quickly returning to his original pale, porcelain perfection, his temperature lowering to the norm, and his lips returning to the light red that they should be. However, he didn't move from his position at Harry's side. Strands of soft moonlight-like hair was being petted gently, lovingly, by Harry, and he had his arm wrapped protectively around Draco, who had his own arm draped across Harry's stomach.

A few sniffles escaped a quickly cast silencing charm and Harry shot the female founders an amused look before lying back down on the pillows, closing his eyes, and closing the curtains with a twitch of the nose – he had always wanted to do that, ever since he'd seen a glimpse of that TV show before Aunt sneers Petunia changed the channel and shooed him out of the room – in an unmistakable dismissing gesture.

And he was warm and content and happy, with Draco here beside him, and he felt whole again.

They didn't wake up for at least 14 hours, at which time it was very late in the afternoon.

I'm probably going to continue changing some of the smaller details from various volumes of the HP series, so forgive me…

Yay, so finally finished this chapter. Wrote almost all of it today, after the Spanish and Math tests and then wrote the larger half this afternoon.

Review and make my week, which, by the way, is full of finals, better!

Cher-nesssnesss


	3. Human Spiderweb

I have decided that, as per complaints, I will take author's commentary out in the middle of the chapters. If I find the information vital to the story and not some inane babbling on my part, I will put it at the end of the chapter. I am going to be doing this for the rest of my fics also, so if you'd like to read those as well without the 'distractions' please do so.

This was written with a mix of Linkin Park, Slipknot, and, yes, you guessed it, The Used. I had an idea for this floating my head the whole time…

Disclaimer: Do you really need me to repeat this? It's not mine, nor has it ever been, so please don't indulge in the mistake that I do claim it to belong to me, trademark and all. Because, once again, it **_is not mine_**! Oh yeah, neither is the part of the song in here by The Used.

* * *

**_-Chapter 3: I Caught Fire-

* * *

_**

The founders sat in a conference chamber just off their quarters. They all had separate rooms, but chose to have them located in one place for convenience.

"I must say, this is rather unexpected," Salazar spoke, breaking the silence, finally. He was hit in the back of the head by Godric. Other than a twitch in his eye, he showed no reaction.

"I wasn't expecting him to find his mate so quickly… of course, he doesn't know that," Rowena stated tiredly.

Helga sighed before crossing her arms on the table. "We're going to have to tell him, you know."

"Tell him what?" Godric inquired as naively as he could, something that only worked on the female founders.

Salazar's hand had found the inside of his thigh and pinched it sharply, shaking his head and tsking, "Godric, dear, you've gotten out of shape! There was fat there for me to pinch!"

Gasping in outrage, Godric poked the founder of the snake house in his stomach, which, to his dismay, was not at all flabby, something he should have well known, and ended up hurting his own finger instead. He grumbled with his head down into the collar of his robe.

"Boys!" Rowena shouted, slapping her hands on the table angrily. To her left, Helga was stifling her giggles at their antics. They were normally like this. It was a comfort for all of them to see something similar when their world was changing before their eyes every day.

"Yes, well, for all the dimwits here," Salazar aimed a poisonous glare at his lover, "we have yet to inform Harry about his future position in the wizarding world. And, not to mention the fact that he has just initiated the beginning of bonding with his life mate. And, by the way, that we still don't really know what he even is."

Helga and Rowena sighed as they tried to think over their priorities.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-**_

Harry had laid there in the bed with the comfortable weight and warmth of Draco on his chest for hours just basking in the content he felt. At the moment, a song came to him, but, he really couldn't be bothered to try to remember the name or the artist. All he could remember was a few lines:

Seemed to stop my breath  
My head on your chest  
Waiting to cave in  
From the bottom of my...  
Hear your voice again  
Could we dim the sun  
And wonder where we've been  
Maybe you and me  
So kiss me like you did  
My heart stopped beating  
Such a softer sin  
(1)

Alright, so it wasn't as good as describing how he felt right now, but it just popped up.

Draco stirred in his sleep, mumbling something crazy about mutant purple gnomes fighting to take over the world (2) before he opened his eyes blearily to look at a chuckling Harry. He looked around a little unsurely. Maybe this was just another dream… Just in case, he decided not to push his luck. "Good morning, Harry," he mumbled cutely, only to be responded with another chuckle.

"Um… Draco, it's not exactly morning right now."

"Oh." Nervous laugh. "Right. I knew that."

"Sure you did."

"No, I'm serious. I did."

"Uh-huh."

Huffing angrily at his mate's desperation to not believe him, he poked him harshly in the chest. "If you must be so insistent, then I'm… going. I wonder if Hogwarts is any different," he mumbled after crawling off the bed, taking great pleasure in stepping on his mate's feet. (Oh wow. He had a mate! He still couldn't believe it, nor could he convince himself that it was not, in fact, a dream.)

Harry frowned worriedly. Sure, he wasn't exactly sure if the blonde's mood swings were over or not or if this was even part of them, but he still couldn't bear it if he was still sick. Oh, no, he had not forgotten the events of the previous night, rather, he would rather not think about them at the current moment.

"Are you okay, Draco?"

"Yes, Harry, I'm fine," Draco replied with a sigh, knowing it was pointless to be angry or moody to his mate. "Just a little confused, is all."

"Well then, what are you confused about? Maybe I can help… clear it up for you."

So much for not pushing my luck, Draco thought sadly. Maybe he would wake up before he got rejected.

"What exactly happened last night?"

It was Harry's turn to feel uncertain. What if his friend – he still wasn't sure what they were – did not agree on the events? What if he wanted to kill Harry for kissing him? What if, what if, _what if_!

He decided to try to get on level ground. "What do you think happened?"

His skin paled a bit, if that were possible, but he answered nonetheless. "You… kissed me," he replied nervously, but smiled slightly nevertheless.

"Yes, Draco, that did happen. And I meant every shred of what I felt and said, too."

Draco flat-out smiled now, and Harry smiled with him. Finally, he got up out of the enormous bed to stand beside Draco so he could kiss him on the cheek tenderly.

"I do love you, Draco."

"And I you, Harry," the boy in question replied firmly.

Sadly, this was the scene both Helga and Rowena walked in on, resulting in many 'awww's and much sniffing back of tears. Harry could have sworn that he heard something along the lines of, "our little heir is growing up so fast!" which caused him to shudder. Dear people, the women were slightly scary. But in a good way. In a… heartwarming way.

Salazar and Godric stood amusedly in the doorway, where they proceeded to pry the girls off the two polar opposites. (Neither founder could deny the way they balanced each other out, if only by their looks.)

"I figured that the two of you should be awake for dinner, so come!"

Harry and Draco laughed light-heartedly, as if they hadn't been through hell and back for most of their lives, and shared one last kiss before they joined the others at the door, where they proceeded to fight over who got to go first.

It warmed the hearts of the four founders. Really, it did.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-**_

It was now two o'clock in the morning and neither teen could sleep. Damn those founders for letting them sleep so late! Now their sleeping schedule was just as fucked up as the authoress' was a year ago!

The dark haired boy sighed and leaned back in the arm chair he'd been curled up in, absently stirring his hot chocolate.

"Draco. I'm bored."

Draco snorted ironically. Of course the boy was bored! Who wouldn't be! They were the only ones awake right now!

"Don't I know it. You've said the same thing for the past three hours. Getting a bit redundant, love?"

Sulking – beautifully, mind – the battle-scarred martyr pouted at his mate. They had already discussed the matter hours ago when they had first been left alone and came to the conclusion that they would be 'boyfriends' for the time being until they really knew much more about both species – or more specifically, which species Harry was.

He mumbled, "damn you, Sal," before sighing again.

"The least we could do is explore the castle more."

This brought another disdainful snort from the blonde. "Harry, we discovered that the castle is no different in structure than ours was. And you know that one better than the back of your hand."

"But Draaaco," he whined persistently, "I'm _bored_!"

Blondie had to restrain himself from strangling him, and instead settled for just shutting him up.

How you ask? Well, I highly doubt that you need to, but still.

He kissed him. End of story.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-**_

When the founders went to check up on them that morning, they found a wired Harry jumping around the room excitedly. Draco, who sat on the couch, looked like a human spider-web. Apparently, Harry'd decided to play connect-the-dots with Draco's freckles, something that the victim was none too happy about. (3)

"You just had to tell the house elves to get him whatever he wanted, didn't you?

"You should know that someone that hyperactive normally would be a nightmare hopped up on caffeine and sugar."

Salazar chuckled nervously, as did the rest of the founders.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-**_

The rest of the day/morning was spent avoiding Harry as much as possible while he was still on a sugar high. And he kept singing off-key renditions of Queen songs! Dear gods, he had to mock the classics, didn't he?

Draco had a feeling that his mate would be paying for that one soon.

He just hoped he was around to see it.

_Oh_, he sighed dreamily, _the blackmail opportunities!_

* * *

Author's Notes Regarding This Chapter: 

1 – That came from 'I Caught Fire (In Your Eyes)' by The Used. Give them a hand, ladies and gentlemen. I couldn't help it; I can connect almost anything with a song.

2 – I give all credit of that to JaDeD with ScArS... who still owes me the purple gnome.

3 - My friend was so hyper this morning on the bus, she tried to do the same thing. Damn you, Alex… Wouldn't let me listen to my angry morning music either!

I hope I put enough dialogue in this one, as some people complained about that for one of my other fics.

Responses to anonymous reviews can be found at only-gray. livejournal. com/ without the spaces. I highly doubt you'd even read them, but still, it's nice to know they're there.

So sorry for the length of time this hasn't been updated! I know this chapter seems like it could very well be the end of the fic, but **it is not**!

Until next time,

Cher


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